The Island - Anita's Day 01-02

He didn't reply -- well, not immediately. Instead, he scanned me head to toe. And boy, did he look pleased seeing me -- well, not like that, but he was definitely checking me out, and it made my crotch tingle just a tiny, teeny bit. OK, a bit more than that, but I'm trying to appear as a normal girl.

"Wow, Anita! I can't believe I'm seeing you! Look at you, all grown up! I think it was much more than five years. Last time I saw you, you were still a scowled teenager!" he yelled out, so enthusiastically that it was obvious he was trying to remind himself I was his little girl-buddy the last time we saw each other. Still, I couldn't hold it back anymore, and I flew at him, hugging him tightly. He smelled so good... And... Oh, yes, there was a movement lower down. Yes, indeed! I squeezed for just a second more, didn't want to be too obvious, and then I gave him quick pecks on the cheek.

"Eh, come on, deary! I'm only twenty-two, I didn't age that much! And look at ya', lookin' serious like a president or sumthin'," I replied, now moving away from him slightly, but still remaining in his personal space. So, it wasn't five -- it was actually seven years since the last day we saw each other. My god, how the time flies.

We did some general small talk, nothing important -- mostly he asking me how I was, what I did, where was I, etc., but all the time we talked, my brain was half there, and half thinking about him in a rather different setting. Hmmm, those hands there, bet they could lift me up without any trouble. And not only that, they sure as hell are just the right size to cup my boobs, mhmm...

"Folks, I am delighted with your welcome, but now I really want to go to sleep. I'll be here for 9 days. It's a small Island; we'll be seeing each other for sure," Martin said, informing us that he was about to call the day. So, nine whole days... My dear Martin, I'll be riding you into the sunset before the end of the third day, I promise you that.

"Here's the key. I've opened the windo's this afternoon, and Anita closed up when she was returnin' from 'er swim. It should be fresh and clean for ya," Dads said to Martin, and then turned to me: "Anita, did you get everything?"

Oh, my, did I? Probably, and then some. "Yep, Dads, no worries, all of it. Everythin' in tha house is ready for our favorite inlander." Did I sound a tad too revealing? Maybe, who'd know.

"Thank you both. I'm gonna go and crash on my bed," Martin said. Then he turned to shake hands with Dads, before turning back to me and spreading his hands in a hug. I hugged him back, bucking my knees slightly so my belly would be at just the right altitude. Oh, yep. He might be wearing loose shorts, but there was no denial, it was busy inside of those. My, my, it was sure not a minor movement in there. I really wanted to stay like that to see how far his pecker would go, but it'd probably scare him off a bit. Also, like I said, I wasn't some whore, and I wasn't there just to get a quick dick. So I moved away, politely, like the nice, well-mannered lady I was supposed to be -- yeah, right. And I went into the house. Not because I had something to do in there, but simply to give Martin a nice view of my prime asset. See there, that was a pun. A bad one, but still... I didn't turn around to see his reaction; I'd do that some other day.

***

As I peel my panties off, a fresh, wet stain is on them. I spread my pussy lips gently, only to find out it is already so slippery and moist that it needs almost no warm-up. I bite my lower lip gently, mostly to contain my moan. Today, finally, I need not dig into my memory. I have a fresh image; one I can display momentarily, exact and updated just a few hours ago.

Martin is there, standing next to me, looking at me intensely. His shorts are bulging; his eyes are fixated on my naked, twisting body. I spread my legs gently, still standing, while my hands squeeze my already excited breasts and erect nipples. He's in the dark, and I can't see all of him, but I hear his shorts drop to the floor. He's naked, looking at me. His shoulders are illuminated by the moonlight from the window, and I see them moving slightly. He's holding his cock. I drop down to the bed, leaning my head against the wall, so I can watch him watching me. I can see the lust in his eyes as he devours the sight of my pussy, spread in front of him, wet, red, open. I spread my outer lips for him, giving him the perfect view of my sex, while I gently touch my bulging clit with my middle finger. His arms are now moving quicker; he's probably as hard as he can be, sliding his hand up and down his mighty shaft. But now I don't look at his dick; it is hidden in the darkness anyway. I stare directly into his eyes. He returns the stare and keeps it. I feel the bolt of electricity spread through my entire body, making my wet cunt flinch. I start rubbing faster, biting my lips and squeezing my teeth, just so my moans don't exit the room.

'You like it?" I ask, whispering, biting my finger and licking it surreptitiously. He nods and grins, closing his eyes for a moment and taking in a deep breath. His both hands work his manhood now, just as my both hands are on my crotch. Two fingers are inside me; I'm fucking myself as hard as possible. I quickly grab the pillow and bite it, hard. I'm a screamer, and this is not the time nor the place to scream. He notices it and smiles. His breathing is now shorter, shallower. I can see veins in his neck protruding, his muscles tensing as his hand now furiously rubs his cock. The whole scene blurs in my eyes, I can feel it coming. My toes curl, my knees jerk, my hips push up, and my shoulders push back. I am ready to explode, to burst out there, right in front of him, for him, to make him yell out in pleasure. For him, and for him only, I am his bitch. His vehicle of lust. I give him myself, as he plays with himself. And his play is what makes me want to fuck myself even harder. I want to scream bloody fuck, I want to proclaim I'm his dominion while the universe withers into an insignificant dot surrounded by my everlasting orgasm. He cums. He jerks, twitches and sprays jets of cum, all the way across the room, hitting my bare feet. And that is just enough for me, as I feel the explosion inside me. I gave him what he needed; now I give myself what I want. An H-bomb of ultimate pleasure mushrooms from my vagina outwards. My fingers are rubbing my pulsating clitoris so fast that they are a blur, even in the real-world resolution. My consciousness is sinking into that all-familiar, but never boring microcosm of sexual ecstasy. I'm shaking, almost convulsing. I'm roaring into my pillow, and there is no telling how much the poor piece of fabric can actually muffle the sound. My eyes are closed, my insides are twitching. It subsides slowly, as my pussy becomes softer, more sensitive, slightly spent. I open my eyes. He's gone. I smile. Soon...

***

As the early morning sun rays protruded in my room -- well, not that early, it was 10 in the morning, don't judge me, I'm a med student on a break, yadda yadda -- I got up and stretched as far as possible. I looked into the corner where my lovely fantasy played out last night and smiled. Oh my, I'd better not get disappointed again, because I didn't want to leave the Island early. I forgot how much I loved this place. No matter how long I've been absent, how long I've been a City girl -- this was my home. The place where I felt completely free.

I quickly pulled a light summer dress (sans anything under, understandably), which was barely covering my thighs, over my head, put on some flip-flops, grabbed my beach towel and headed towards the same swimming spot -- past Martin's house. The sun was already high in the sky, and it was scorching. Thankfully, once you pass the last houses officially belonging to the Town, the path narrows down and enters a thick Mediterranean forest, offering plenty of shade. It was an enjoyable walk at all times, although not longer than 10 minutes, through the car-width path surrounded by thick growth and the sound of thousands of crickets creating a steady cacophony of calming stridulating. I barely broke a sweat when I came to Martin's cottage. His car was parked in the shade next to it, and the place was now apparently inhabited, but it was quiet there. I climbed a few steps onto the porch and peeked inside. It appeared to be empty, but Martin was maybe still asleep. Well, if he was, I was most definitely going to wake him up. Rise and shine, sleepy head, it's a damn shame to waste such a perfect morning.

"Martin, ya there?" I asked, leaning onto the mosquito screen. I repeated the question and concluded that he was either not here, or really fast asleep, or just unwilling to reply. Whatever the option was, I decided not to linger on and continued towards the beach. If he was really so adamant to spend the day in bed, it was gonna be his loss. Well, OK, I might just find a neat way to join him at some moment -- you know, to chat and hang out.

Just for a note -- the place where I went for a swim was not a beach in any classic sense. There was no sand, no pebbles, and no gradual entrance. It was basically a place on the entrance to a deeper cove, a row of rocky plateaus carved by the millennia of the winter seas, usually occupied only by people who preferred to enjoy the sea and the sunshine in seclusion. Also, the only way in and out of the sea was straight across the rocks and into the water 10 feet deep. The exit was also a bit tricky for anyone who was not used to such configuration since there was an abundance of sea urchins and sharp rock shards. For anyone who lived or grew up on the Island, it was pure perfection, since the tourists rarely came here.

Which is why I was somewhat surprised when I saw a couple standing next to the best sun tanning spot. Also, it appeared like they were looking at something since they were both staring at the same spot. As I came a bit closer, I noticed that the man actually had a very, very decent hard-on. Hmm. I slowed down, and instead of proceeding directly towards them, I decided to track back a few steps, and then climb up onto the mound above the location. Basically, it was a perfect place for peeping toms since no one who was below on the rocks couldn't see directly on the mound. And yes, if you're wondering -- when I was younger, I used to come here regularly to... Ahem, inspect the situation and to indulge my voyeuristic self. As I climbed up, I heard a distinct moan. A woman's moan. A moan which almost no woman would produce unless she was being -- well, engaged in some sort of pleasurable activity. Yes, I mean sex, just wanted to show how you can go and beat around the bush with many words. Again, bad pun intended.

And, oh my, as soon as got to a good vantage point, did I get a view for eternity. Down below, on a rock just where I was planning to shed my clothes and jump off into the sea, a couple was fucking like crazy. And I do mean, like crazy. They were going at it like there was no tomorrow. He was... Oh my god, HE was none other than Martin! And the girl -- woman -- was exquisitely beautiful. She was on top of him, riding him wildly, moaning and screaming as she was impaling herself on Martin's hard cock. Do I have to mention that I was already wet as a river? Probably not, but there you go. Funnily enough, I wasn't jealous at her one bit. Instead, I was horny as ever. She was beautiful and sexy, her wild, brown hair flailing around her soft, gentle face, currently contorted into a perfect display of pure pleasure. Her tits were lovely -- not big, but firm and with pointy nipples, perfectly shaped for sucking, licking and biting. Now, I was suddenly thinking not just about the man I wanted for so many years, but also about a woman whom I just saw for the first time as she was doing a public presentation of an excellent fucking technique together with that man. She was changing her tempo, twerking her hips around his dick, changing the angle -- and all of that was followed by Martin's hard, powerful thrusts from underneath her, each reverberating in a mighty splash of two wet, sweaty skins colliding with each other. My boy had the moves, and then some!

Now, the best part of it all was that Martin and the girl knew they had an audience. And if I was getting wet before, noticing that little detail created an epic flood between my legs. As I crouched on top of the mound, my skimpy dress was already far gone up the hips, completely exposing my naked butt and anything below the waist. My fingers were already rubbing my clitoris, without me even noticing. If I was a man, guess I'd be constantly playing with my pecker -- just like any man.

Martin and the woman were on the verge of climax, as it seemed. They were getting louder. their rhythm was faster and faster; they were both less and less aware of anything around them. If it weren't for those two standing next to them, I'd probably be able to sneak up a few yards away from them and observe them in peace. Well, in peace and with fingers up my cunt, just like I had them now. As my squat was getting wider and wider, thin strand of grass tickled my anus, which got me even more aroused. I haven't been there for more than a minute or so, and the sensors were already sending me a message they were ready for the release.

And then, just like that, he started to cum. Loudly and visibly. Dear me, he was a screamer, and that was hot! He was bursting inside of her, each of his thrusts now accompanied by a visible shiver. No more than ten seconds after that, and obviously enticed by Martin's orgasm, the woman came. Oh, boy, she came all right, I can tell you that. To be more accurate -- she exploded. She shook, arched her back, she kissed Martin hard on the lips and released moan after moan. It was so primal, so untamed that I could hear it even muffled by the kiss and even through the sounds of the waves, crickets and the wind. My god, what a delightful prelude to the remainder of the day.

The scene simply got me over the edge, and I started to cum together with them. I bit my lips hard as my body tried to release a loud sound of pleasure. I dug deep into my pussy with my fingers as it clenched around them. I came hard, harder than any time since I got onto the Island. My vision blurred as tears of pure ecstasy filled my eyes. My legs almost buckled under me as I was shaking from the orgasmic punches. My bubble of self suddenly expanded into a silent scream of delight, its thin and shaky membrane barely holding in everything that wanted to be released as a sound of pure sexual trance.

As much as I was focused on the pair of champion fuckers, I couldn't miss the fact that the pair watching them were just standing there. I mean, what the fuck? The man had a boner the size of a tree trunk, and he wasn't even touching it. If I was him, I'd already been spurting my semen all over the place -- well, even better, I'd set that lady of his in a perfect position and make her moan. But -- and that was the worst part - the lady stood there like she was a performance judge, her arms crossed across her chest. Some people...

All three of us (well, two of them not knowing about me, naturally) ended our orgasms at about the same time, and the girl slowly got up from Martin's dick, lowering her head down to... Oh, damn! Martin was positioned just in a way that his body blocked my view, and there was nothing more that I wanted than to finally see his cock, which she was now obviously sucking dry, just before she gave him another deep, passionate kiss. And then, out of the blue, the audience started to applaud them. They all laughed a bit -- you know, the way that people who suddenly realize that they are in a bit of an awkward situation laugh -- and the pair of watchers headed for a swim, probably trying to avoid a possibility of communicating with the lovely couple that just gave them a performance to remember. As the scene quieted down, and Martin and his lady went into post-coital cuddle mode, I started to feel a bit exposed. If it was anyone else down there, I wouldn't give a rat's arse if they saw me, but this was Martin. I didn't want him to learn what a freak I am before I demonstrate it to him in a bit more intimate environment. He might take it the wrong way. OK, he might not, but the lady might, and I was now almost certain that there were at least two people on the Island I wanted to have sex with. So, as quietly and gently as possible, I sneaked back onto the path and headed towards the Town.

***

Well, the rest of the day went by in mundane activities. Since I missed my morning swim, I went to have some coffee on the Square, met some old friends from the Island, had lunch and, naturally, took a nap while the Sun was scorching the bejesus out of every little pebble and grain of sand on the Island... Nothing special, but yes -- that was the Island life. No worries, no stress, no rush. It was actually really easy to live to be a hundred years old here -- if you weren't the type who got easily bored in the winter, that is.

In the afternoon, I went to the beach with Jana, a girlfriend I haven't seen since I was last time on the Island. Boy, was she fascinated with me getting into my birthday suit almost as soon as we topped a climb dividing the main Town beach from the small sandy cove, which was empty because almost everyone was too lazy to climb down the rocks. I know, it's probably me who's the oddball at the Island, and not her, but I was completely nonplussed by her unwillingness to at least take her bikini top off, even with me being the only person who could see her. I mean, she had a really nice body on her, but those D-cup tits of hers probably never felt a ray of sun on them. What a shame. Well, guess the years of religious indoctrination from your mother and a lack of high-speed Internet does that shit to you. It got me thinking -- if, by any chance, I had stayed on the Island with my Dads after his divorce, what kind of person would I become? On the one hand, my Dads was as cool as a parent could possibly be, but, on the other, who knows what would peer pressure created by people like my friend, who represents the mentality of the vast majority of the Island, make of me. A cauldron of pent-up sexual energy, I guess. Just like Jana, who was constantly ogling my boobs and vagina -- OK, not constantly, she did look around if anyone else was there every minute or so, probably afraid that a local might find her in a company of the 'indecent one.' It was so funny seeing her like that -- I mean, she was worse than any man I knew -- they at least gave it a try to look me in the eyes when talking to me. I really liked Jana -- she was my childhood friend, and she was so nice and all sweet, but she needed to have her brains fucked out at least several times. Well, that was my opinion, at least, and I was a firm believer that almost every psychological problem could be solved by top-quality fucking on a regular basis. I asked her if she masturbated regularly, and she covered her mouth, eventually telling me that's too private to discuss. Which meant she did, and more often than she would ever admit. She probably had some really twisted fantasies, and after she came, she felt like she needed a confession. OK, not a completely lost cause, I thought to myself. Merely a run-of-the-mill sexual hypocrite.

After the beach and the subsequent obligatory drink in the Beach Bar, I got home and quickly discarded everything off of me. Yes, I hated being dressed, and here on the Island I became almost obsessed with spending as much time as possible completely nude. As soon as I got naked, I threw myself into a hammock stretched between two pine trees next to the house. I did take a nice book with me, but after a while I found my mind drifting towards the morning's performance. I rewound the scene in my mind, focusing on the details I missed while trying to take in the whole picture. That girl...